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Frazer Charlton Apr 2014
OK, ok alrite m8.
I know I'm too weird
and these tattoos, this face
or this beard.
But what's weird, seems to be inside of me, and seems like it might be just plain wrong.
I'm a male, who doesn't desire fornication foremost. Your friendship and company are what I favour the most. Who better to share a moonlit night with and I boast.
No one!
and I am sharing it with you.

I must apologise for my lack of understanding
of the physicality between us, as all I understand is the mental boundaries of our friendship.
Do I risk this bond for a kiss?
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2020
...and that i own a bed.., but rather sleep on the floor... make-up an Ibiza from a Beirut... i rather **** the fathoming of a fizzle... to somehow compensate the tirade... this most unwelcome clue and loss... this gravity toward a... copper skin... and spit of biting totoises toying: limbo years... leftover... come... cushioning brief: fudge-packaged "thought"... this limbo-slant... as somewhat crude work-around... kiev a... "scheme"...

vielen dank zu gott! many thanks to god!

my greatest fear is that of homelessness...
who's to fear... to fear and "what"?

to be at home is some synoynmous
with something:
beside a being: and a home!

loitering in the quasi lane...
i'm about to travel across
europe with three rotten
teeth and i'm to suspect:
myself toying with some
variation of journalism...

       i see no end to the cold,
or war... the warm or
the shrapnel excavation
project...
when communism
was beast established
among the slavs
as your: yours one and truly...
antagonistic
warsaw pact whistling
and lobotomy...

even if i were the evil genius
of descartes...
i wouldn't be so...
fine detailed: ****...
      so... pristine... so...
otherwise... lobotomy blues...

exactly! what's scary is not
the laws being implemented...
but how... easily they are...
talk about climbing a tree...
talk about learning to ride
a bike... achieving a pass
with a bruised knee...

              a scrap: heaping...
lost teeth and... what of the jihad...
for the lost fraction of the ummah...
what of the jihad...
expected... in the chinese...

where is the ummah to be
summed to salvage...
and save the...
frolic over...
              the detail... in hair...
when hair is being shipped
away to "elsewhere"...
for ****-holes awaiting...
xinjiang... hair from...
would be... hibernating bear farts...

the jihad! the jihad!
i'm guessing the arab elites
are in on the "gimmick" with
the choke ***** men...
because... jihad only behaves
like a jihad on former
cursader territory...
south of france...
herr tao is somehow immune...

calls for being debility funny...
calls for...
bonfires of the turban of the sikhs...
orientating...
the house of gondor with
the house of rohan...

                 we'z needz 'air!
atypical confused jihadi saladin would-be...
we must all thank...
vielen dank zu gott!
                   but i still wait...
for the jihad to save the... project islam inc.
of the ummah...

sloth-riddles of the islamic project...
clearly they want to stamp on
the face of a man beaten down by...
a non-resurrected christianity...
too scared to face off with...
chinese atheism...

      *****-soldiers... where the ummah
where the... oh... wait...
the bangladeshi being paid
in "reperations" having
a chance to relieve themselves
with a game of cricket...
i'd sooner send... the locust
to abu dhabi than allow a foot
of mine to set...
on a worse idea beside the already
ailing reality of venice...

once upon a time...
was the fortune of settling on the basin
of the river...
all that oil must have shot those
arabs to the head...
the egyptians started screaming
at the camel-jockeys:
you never listened to the sand-*******...
did you?

all that black gold in one's pocket...
all that... yacht ambition...
all that and that...
all that frivolity... prized pride of
the... ahem... "ummah"...
looks like the chinese muslims are
forever and the will of the dubai classics...
fern fusions readied for...
the wigs!

       ****** readied they are...
some mongols would dear strap a horse
to their grave than excavate a hair plough
from...
eh... slaving prior to genocide...
it's like... they are... "allies"...
               it's a genocide mingling
with a joke... of slavery...
but the slaves did work that...
oh no... the germans didn't trust...
the hebrews with anything...
they performed genocide like a "failure"...
or rather a joke...
  
ask the serbs...
ask someone in rwanda...
you never perform a genocide...
by way of... imitating slavery...
by... stalling... by making people perform
menial tasks...
hello horror...
hello the sleeping ummah of islam...
to outright **** a people...
you wouldn't want them...
being teased...
a god teasing and his precursor for
having a 2000 year old wait
to establish: re- ishrael...

         the outliers of rome...
alaos pagan... converted to
the judeo-greco project of: three rotten teeth...

"toxic masculinity"... problem?
not enough of it is going around...
enough for it to be shared...
likewise...
my retreating toward...
japanese insinuation ****...
gravure idols...
   hell... absolute "toxic femininity"...
porcelain white girls...
all... lemon *******... peanuts dead...
while their... glob-trotting...
glutton sized up 66s...
   have forgotten the concept of:
insinuation ****...
foreplay...
all readied for...
extract ******* woman...
****... bred for... **** like a piston...
****** readied...
   blah "blah"...

       it doesn't translate... plain jane...
the sort of toxic you seek...
in man... revels in a deity lady madonna...
i **** myself over all second come...
blessings! blessings they calls them...
yeah... the best dates i've ever had...
concerning the "middle path"
of buddha is bound to the clarity
of a transation in a brothel...

so much for a justified jihad in xinjiang
to... save the people of the ummah...
pseudo malcom X consricpt... 0...
negation... not going to happen...
    japanese porcelein ****...
but they'll wait for the hyprocrisy...
they'll come for the arabs first...
when they finally engineer a man...
that will be better than all
the supposed doping advances of western man
allowed...
  
i'm starting to like *******
from the perspective of a japanese hard-on...
insinuation...
    i'm less the ****** and i'm more...
about to sniff a stinking dog's bowl
of processed meat of a ****'s oyster behalf...
i like that...
less *****... more hard-on...
     n'ah... i never did buy into the whole:
sorry loser ******* in amsterdam
cinema sessions...
    i liked... the tease of a tier...
more imaginative... more human...
than... a tease of a harem via a niqab...

so... no jihad come xinjiang?
should we suppose the mongols also invested
in a conversion and it wasn't the grand
imitation buddha kahn?
the wrath subsided: god was proven...
time for meditation...
    what's a jihad...
when you could entertain...
the... tsunami of the horde of...
the fall of angels.... fully-workable replica
metaphor...
what's the ****-poor islam "spread"
by comparison?
                
no real ummah then...
   unless...
that's diesel of a lamborghini burning
rubber on a tarmac in knightsbirdge
for a faking 'ard on...
    
  two days from now...
i'll be passing through germany...
        i'll be retiring 2 weeks to that land
of paradoxes that's my land of birth...
the aristocratic democracy brothel
of crown and... *******...
foreign hands foreign lands...
all the ready to retreat into their habsburg cul de sacs
of prior to: asserted powers...

no... there's just that...
"we" forgot a healthy ground for
doubt... the plethora of emotion...
the rollercoaster of it...
there's just now... the yoyo-denial cringe
lobotomy...
the best best cringe...
slav soviet communist...
Teddy! Teddy! sell 'em spleen
and iron grips!
no good Warsaw Tadeusz!
Beijin new bwest fwend!

            t-eee-sted...
                  new zealand: tee-st...
not station: tested... but...
t-eee-sted **** the rats and retards...
the philonthropes...
because...
   the noise made by bwah bwah...
  the misathrope...
it's like an accent from...
that last best reserved concept
of growing figs... otherwise a...
goof-ball and course for ralph...

now for the self-congratulatory letter
of championing the dodo project:
well thank **** for not solving this brain-drain
spaghetti puzzle and not exactly buying into
the d.n.a. project ugly pass...
with all that..... bewildering...
"consciousness" debate...
michael myers' "consciousness" debate...
one... 'em... those sudoku nuggets
of... "sober"?!

best resolved...
i drink alcohol to keep calm...
after i forgot to... take my ****** pills...
my... i came late to the party...
21 was illegal to smoke marijuana...
amitriptyline... 25mg...
how many times do i think
about a slaughterhouse?
i think of all the boys with:
chemical soup for brains aged
16 and under...
i was lucky...
they only got to me aged 21...
i was still allowed to retain
a labyrinth of wording(s) to shelter my anger with...
surprise? what surprise?

toxic masculinity = not enough james bonds
running amok for...
oh... weight... *****-whipping...
there's all that... i forgot what...
period drama this was all about...

drink drink drink...
i'll sooner kick my liver dead than...
allow society to sober my half-wit frankenstein
brain of theirs...
    i'll die with:
i don't scare myself with drowning...
i don't scare myself with falling...
flat into a pancake...
i shouldn't be afraid of homelessness...
but i am because...
this avenue of the freely available stars...
and those... made rebel...
that will answer to me...

                  the butterfly... waiting...
for the most pristine... prized... first...
insecurity of... h'america about to be exported...
and it's a... oh my! a zephyr...
tornado... one of those: flush 'em...
when you 'ave 'em...
sort of... scenarios...

hegel: improtune... the will of the thinking man...
thought is a butterfly...
it's hardly... a well-knitted-marx-beard-and-sweater
of consolidations...
  
honest to the god i don't believe in...
i'd shadow **** that crucifix if it
had a japanese gravure model hanging on it...
******* as insinuation...
they did catch me...
libido pressed...
aged 21...
they would have got to me aged 16 and prior...
with ****** and former brain:
the chemical soup...

          i want to smash **** up... then i remind
myself: wait... and giggle...
   the extract... mikhail popkov...
                 albert fish... fan boy for every:
groupie of history...
            is that... like... a somewhat missing:
oops?
        CHRISTINE CHUBBUCK...
               INCEL...
       wouldn't it be... just.. oh so strange...
to... drag a man into a prison cell...
and shoot them... obviously retaining leaving
them there to rot...
   andrei chikatilo...
                              the urban myth of cockroaches
being subjected to the guillotine...

sure... whizz vite boyz aged...
napoleon dynamite... jeffrey dahmer...
      16 is the right time to call brainz...
chem. soup...
bubbly...
me comez 21... me's perfecto...
   me no cain signature idiot primo...
                 i like me horror story...
i get to play the... plot line of
the anaesthetic...
                      
who is to be surprised by: who's who...
of anyone's who of...
the currency of... this... surf...
lost... a "somehow"...
a "somewhat"...
oh... this is... for... today?
                                this has to be...
the advent of the pontius pilate metaphor...
no... not me...
dies ist alles sie:
   scheiße!     es ist mich?
              verwesendtrauben....

kommen, sehen... der welt...
                           verstopfungselbst.
Sana Dec 2014
I hate even numbers
They're so predictable

But I love X's
They're so mysterious

I hate biscuits
They make me so thirsty

I also hate coffee
I drink tea instead

I love flowers
They are so pretty

I love plants
They are so green

I hate abstract words
They are so... abstract

But I love abstract things
They are so free

I hate words in general
I find them very limiting

But I am a writer
And they are the best part in me

Anyways, I love the sun
But it blinds me often

I hate how yellow it is
It makes everything look ugly

I surely love the moon
There is something mystical about it

It reminds of the wolf
A good old friend of mine

With his piercing amber eyes
He can look through my soul

I love flowers
I wish I was as pretty as them

I also love clouds
But not as much as
I love the rain

I also love the wind
Hey! easy on me
Don't ******* away!

Oh, You love me?
I love me too

I love me so much
And I hate me as much

No, but really
I love you
Whoever you might be

I hate people
They can be such a headache

With all their talk about themselves
Them, them and them
psst, shut up

Then, they say I am way too careless
Bwah and nyeh, whatever

But I love humans
Never have I met something
As beautiful and ugly as them

I hate society
I find it very... Just no. Ok?

And I also hate reality
I think it's really boring

But I love dreams
sigh... Oh, dreams...

I love dreams
Of wakefulness and of sleep

Strange things happen in mine
But it's all I have ever really known

Oh, did I say I love flowers
Because I really really do

Only give me one once
And for forever, I will love you
*Gimme! Gimme!
And here we are,
blundering through the cold, dark
early weeks of the year,
flames from the fire
growling up
the walls
at the King’s Head,
our local.

Inside we’re the jokers,
knocking them back,
lager in
our mouths,
a bwah-hah-hah
noise
between old songs
and the lost-count-which-pint.
Questions blurt     out
but we’re on
the razz,
sozzled.     A mate turns up
the volume, which one
I don’t know, lights
swirl
to x’s, white pinpricks
and would
I like another?
I slur out a guhon then.
We’ve all got
the zest
for more.
Written: January 2018.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time for university - as such, changes are possible in the coming months. It is an alphabet-type piece - 'and', 'blundering', 'cold', 'dark', 'early'... and so on. Feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Almost 400 of my poems, mostly old pieces, have been put on private by me recently. Only more satisfying poems and old uni pieces remain.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2018
in that the metaphor is
an immediate,
in that the metaphor
is experienced immediately,
in that metaphor is
what is immediately
conceived while pushing
a cube prism through a Δ
opening...
           which is nothing more
than the judeo tetragrammaton
construct seived through
        the diabolical trinity...
          shapes to conform to...
and the difference between
a pun & a pundit?
                 propably a bet...
but if poetics has its
metaphor, equivalent to
                   the philosophical
metaphysics...
              -phor becomes -phren,
a mind, coordinates to
mind the gap, when stepping
off the tube at bank station,
due to the curve, you see,
      less than a minute
seperates liverpool st. and bank
station...
          ****** english,
and its bloodied
               acronym riddled
               american counterpart....
           lol just doesn't cut it...
short-script, curtailed analysis...
                     but when
poetry has its metaphor,
     philosophy has its metaphysics...
lingo?
               teaching a. i.,
                  no greater fanning
the flames than preaching to a.i.
with intent on infamy...
                     ah...
the other benzene ring tactics...
  paranormal,
          at hand... what english is
delusional about, as a tongue,
but not as a people...
                     the ortho-
                               tangent...
   baby, there ain't not study of
orthography, is there,
              if there is no diacritical
application...
                i already told you:
cut the two-headed hydra of
     i            j,       i.e.                 ι     ȷ
it's called momentum:
              governed by reiteration;
mort, the fascination of
the study of vivo...
                   esp. in rather than on,
the canvas of vitro...
        ah (prolonged, inclusive
of a sigh, or a wet sock)...
you want english to apply a study of
orthography? you want to play
by the rules of existing orthography?
        no problem...
just let me give you a head start,
by cutting the siamese heads off
so you can receive a blank canvas...
because writing sEEn is...
well... a pish-poor attempt at
    exercising orthography....
                metaphor and metaphysics
aside...
                   you want to study
orthography? no problem...
           first learn diacritical
                          implementation...
don't worry, the russians are
doubly ****** with their softening
of consonants,
   with their ь...
                 vlad, ьlah sounds more
                                         like bwah.
russian diacritical indicators
are never intra-litterae...
                  always at the end...
why? because she minded to address
the tongue as only managed by
sh sh sh sh sz sh sh sz sh sh sz sh sh sz...
                              shazam!
                that's interchangeable.
oh look, gorilla clenches its hand,
               exposing a grip of knuckles.
don't know, sport,
           at 6ft1 i am happy walking in
the night without a sight of
bother...
                       while drinking
i tend to pretend to juggle
interchanging between my left
                                     and my right foot.

— The End —